


Two Seats, Three Persons

by F0ssiliZ3d



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Elliot works for E-Corp, F/M, Flirting, M/M, Relationship Negotiation, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-31 09:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15116210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F0ssiliZ3d/pseuds/F0ssiliZ3d
Summary: Elliot liked to pretend they didn't know each other. Tyrell found it funny - at first.





	Two Seats, Three Persons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellsinki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsinki/gifts).



> Inspired by your comments, hellsinki. Hope you like it.

Tyrell had always had a very open relationship with Joanna. While they held the outward appearance of an ordinary married couple, they didn't have sex with each other, except the once to conceive their child. Instead, they took alternate lovers. Tyrell, admittedly, did this more than Joanna - though she had more tact than he. She could take twice as many lovers as he, and he'd never know. They didn't discuss their lovers with each other, except to give each other advice.

Which was the position Tyrell was coming from when he brought up Elliot Alderson.

"A  _tech?"_ Joanna said, surprised. Back against the headboard, she delicately switched the cross of her thighs. A bowl of grapes balanced on her pregnant belly. She poked a grape with her fingernail and scowled. "Is this the same man you've wasted the last month  _attempting_  to hire?"

"He finally accepted he position." he said, defensively, feeling a little put down by his wife's scathing tone. He tried to keep the emotion off his face; his back was to his wife, but he was stood in the mirror and she could see his face. "He's been working at E-Corp for a week now. I hope to make my move soon."

"What are you waiting for?" she put a grape in her mouth and popped it with her teeth, "Why don't you seduce him like all the others? You've done this a thousand times. Or are you losing your touch?"

Tyrell twitched. "It's not that simple." he insisted, "Elliot Alderson is no ordinary man. He requires delicacy.  _Tact_."

"I doubt that." she said, "He's just like everyone else. Find out what he needs and fuck him for it - promotion, money..."

"Elliot Alderson doesn't care about money." He straightened his tie, "Besides, I don't want to just fuck him, I want -" he cut himself off and Joanna raised her eyebrows at him, smirking.

"How  _romantic_."

Tyrell flushed, avoiding her eyes. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Silence.

Tyrell glared at his reflection in the mirror and straightened his tie again.

"Tact, you say? Very well." Joanna said, finally. "Start simple: Invite him for lunch."

 

* * *

 

"No."

"I -  _pardon?"_

"You heard me." Elliot said, "Now outta the way, I'm itching for a cig."

Tyrell was stunned. He thought getting Elliot to E-Corp would be the difficult part - convincing a man to join a company he so vehemently despised wasn't easy, and took considerable back-bending on Tyrell's part. He'd finally won him over by promising he'd give him incriminating evidence on E-Corp's morally corrupt employees. Elliot got those employees arrested via anonymous tips to the FBI or the cops. He was cleaning up E-Corp, shaping it to his liking, and Tyrell reaped the benefits, path to the top cleared of competition. It was a mutual arrangement, and he let Elliot believe that was all it was. Perhaps that was a mistake. Perhaps he should have told the truth,  _"I love you. I'll do anything if you'll just stay by my side."_

Turned out, convincing him to join him for lunch was even more difficult. But Tyrell was nothing if not persistent.

In total, Elliot rejected him 12 times.

On the 13th try, Tyrell managed to corner Elliot in the elevator on his way out to have his cigarette. He swept in just before the elevator doors shut and tussled his suit. He straightened himself up and Elliot eyed him, quirking his brow.

Tyrell smiled confidently, "Elliot."

He said nothing, but Tyrell expected that. He was such a quiet employee, focused and hard-working, never getting chatty with the others, except for the blonde girl, Angela.

Tyrell just smiled and turned to the elevator doors.

"You know what's funny about you, Tyrell?" Elliot said, suddenly, "It's that you act all confident, like you were born and bred the man you pretend to be, but really you're just as insecure and awkward as the rest of us."

Tyrell felt his eye twitch. "What makes you say that?"

"Cut the crap – you  _like_  me."

Tyrell blinked. The last thing he expected was for Elliot to be so forward. "I, uh…" Oh no. Confidence crumbing, he felt his face flush red. Joanna's voice rang in his head, " _Get back in control of the situation!"_ He breathed deeply, trying to compose himself.

"Relax." Elliot chided, "I'm flattered, really. But it can't work."

Tyrell frowned, hesitantly glancing over. "You mean...you like me too?"

This time, Elliot seemed taken aback. Pink dabbled his cheeks and he glanced sharply away, "You're cute, I'll give you that. That doesn't change the fact that  _this -_ " he gestured between them with his finger, "- is a no-go zone."

"Why?"

He huffed. He seemed both amused and sad. "I ain't what you think I am."

A feeble excuse, and they both knew it. Tyrell asserted himself, moving into Elliot's space and taking hold of his arm. He smirked, "How many times have I heard that cliché?"

"Stereotypes exist for a reason." He growled.

"Elliot." Tyrell slipped his thumb underneath Elliot's sleeve and caressed his wrist. "Have dinner with me."

Elliot's eyes drooped and his lips parted.

Tyrell wanted to kiss him.

But then the elevator slowed and Elliot pulled his arm from Tyrell's grip. "I need to smoke. Come with me, if your reputation can survive it."

 _Challenge accepted,_ thought Tyrell. He followed Elliot out of the elevator, through the doors, and to the next street over. They found a dusty wall for Elliot to lean against as he smoked.

They didn't talk. The air was too charged for words, too much tension, and Tyrell knew this was the turning point - either Elliot would accept him, or he'd reject him and Tyrell would resign himself to failure. Joanna would tease him, then kiss him and offer to have Elliot assassinated, and he'd laugh, no, no, not necessary, and then go out and find a Elliot-look-alike to fuck senseless.

Elliot regarded him, brow lowered and eyes in shadow, and said nothing while he finished the cigarette. Then he stamped on it, leaned over, and dropped a kiss to Tyrell's cheek.

Tyrell was so shocked he couldn't move. By the time he recovered, Elliot had gone back inside and was at his cubicle, like nothing had happened.

 

* * *

 

Elliot joined him for lunch the next day and every day following. Victory.

Or so it seemed.

 

* * *

 

"You seem agitated." Joanna observed over dinner, four months since Tyrell first brought up Elliot Alderson, "Haven't you fucked your precious tech yet? He can't be alluding you for this long, though perhaps he's more interesting than he appears. Maybe I should try him."

Tyrell sucked in his cheeks, "That isn't funny, Joanna."

Joanna's amused smile dropped slightly. "He has you shaken." she observed, "Do I need to intervene?"

The edge in her voice had him jolting. "Of course not!" he growled, "And if you dare threaten him again I will -" At Joanna's raised brows, he stopped short. He'd nearly threatened his wife, in front of his two-month old son, no less. At least the baby was too occupied breast feeding to be disturbed. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"He must really be something, to reduce you to this." she interrupted, quietly. She pressed a kiss to her child's forehead.

Tyrell jabbed a potato with his fork, "He's the most confusing person I've ever met."

"Tyrell..." Joanna covered his hand with hers, "Talk to me. What's he done?"

So Tyrell recounted the last few months of lunches with Elliot Alderson. 

 

* * *

 

It began perfectly. Daily lunches with Elliot in the executive lounge, full of playful banter and debate. There was only one thing that felt innocent enough at the time, but soon became the source of Tyrell's torment.

"I want this time to be for us only." Elliot had said, "That means outside of this lounge, away from this table, we're just tech and exec." he grinned at the rhyme.

Tyrell figured this was another game, and he was happy to play. And it was fun, at first. The first time he approached Elliot's cubicle as 'just an exec', Elliot was so  _convincing,_  playing the part of awkward-tech so perfectly, that Tyrell burst into laughter. Elliot only raised his eyebrows, asked him if he was okay, not breaking character for a moment. It was brilliant!

Brilliant and fascinating. He couldn't help but wonder why Elliot created this scenario. If Tyrell could figure that out, he could unravel more of the mystery that is Elliot Alderson, sate his desire to learn more about the man, to bring them as close as possible.

But the more lunches they spent together, the more Tyrell learned about Elliot, the more  _difficult_ things became. Elliot went from fascinating and mysterious to frustrating and confusing.

 _Maybe he hates gossip,_  Tyrell thought once. The logic being: Elliot hated attention. He always avoided eye contact, kept his hood up until he was in the walls of his cubicle, and talked to as few people as possible.

But then, Elliot would flirt loudly and excessively with the waitresses. Tyrell remembered one incident when the waitress seductively brushed her hand on Elliot's shoulder. Tyrell expected him to flinch. Instead, he smirked and looked at her through half-closed eyes.

At the time, Tyrell was overcome with jealousy. He looked sharply out the window and waited for the waitress to leave.

"I love it when you get all pouty." Elliot leaned his head on his fist and smirked, "Come on. I'm only teasing you. You've gotta lighten up. I don't like red-heads anyway, too many freckles make my eyes go swirly. Her tits are like a pair of polka dot dice!"

Tyrell's lip twitched, trying not to snigger.

That was another thing that didn't support Elliot's distaste for attention – he was  _vulgar._ Sometimes, he'd rant loudly about capitalism and corporatism, making the other executives in the lounge very uncomfortable, leaving Tyrell to stitch up his reputation every time with apologetic emails and promised favours. This only encouraged Elliot.

"You worry too much about what people think of you." he said, "Let loose, live a little!"

A misconception quickly corrected - Elliot  _loved_ attention. He didn't care what others thought of him. That was a freedom Tyrell admired because he couldn't share it.

"How about we keep politics away from dinner?" he said, when one email became too many, "I  _do_  have a reputation to uphold."

"If you were really that bothered, you'd have stopped inviting me here."

But Elliot didn't bring up politics again after that. Instead, they discussed political fiction. A safe compromise. It was the unspoken things like that made Tyrell believe their relationship was truly special.

Outside of lunch, their relationship was near non-existent. Because that was, of course, part of the game.

But soon, Tyrell began to suspect it wasn't a game at all. Whenever Tyrell passed by his cubicle, he was met with confusion, sometimes caution. It felt like Elliot wanted to forget their lunches altogether. He blinked at their shared jokes, shrugged off topics he'd discussed with such  _fire_ , and acted aloof when Tyrell stayed by his cubicle longer than a few seconds. Elliot was  _desperate_  for Tyrell to leave. All of it in the name of keeping their lunches a secret? That wasn't fun, that  _hurt._

It wouldn't be so bad if Elliot treated everyone like that. Tyrell could understand a workplace persona as he had several of his own. Maybe Elliot just didn't want to admit he had a persona, so played it off as a game. That made sense.

Tyrell told himself not to be so sensitive, to swallow his hurt and wait for their next lunch together to forget about it.

But  _Angela._

Angela, the one glaring flaw in his theory. Elliot didn't greet Angela with his 'persona.' There was no confusion, fear, or contempt. Elliot was always happy to talk to  _Angela._

Maybe Elliot was teasing him, like he did at lunch when he flirted with the waitresses and barmaids. But Elliot didn't look at Angela lewdly, voice dripping sex. Angela was given delicate smiles and soft words. When  _Angela_  came up to Elliot's cubicle, Elliot always looked interested. Elliot looked  _sad_ when she leaved. He wanted her to  _stay_.

But even  _that_ Tyrell thought he had figured out. Jealous as he was, it made sense that Angela was special – they worked together at AllSafe before they both transferred to E-Corp, and from what Tyrell could find out, they'd been friends for years.

Yet, if Tyrell hadn't witnessed the genuine affection between them with his own two eyes, he would have been certain Elliot  _hated_ Angela!

"Why are you so interested in that big-eyed bimbo, anyhow?" Elliot said when Tyrell brought her up one lunchtime.

Tyrell was taken aback. "You seem…close."

Elliot waved his hand dismissively. "Childhood friend. Shared trauma. Yadda. Yadda. Yadda. That doesn't explain  _your_ interest in her."

Did he detect a hint of jealousy? He hoped so, even if it was only an ounce of what Tyrell felt towards Angela. He pretended to be disinterested. "You don't talk to many people here."

"I talk to you. That's enough for me."

Tyrell smiled.

"Oh, look at you, you sap." Elliot said fondly. He brushed his thumb across the back of Tyrell's hand. "That wasn't even a compliment."

Tyrell's hand prickled and he pushed his concerns out of his mind, determined to enjoy the rest of their lunch. But it still nagged him. As the weeks rolled by, it became harder to ignore, and eventually he decided to confront him.

"…and that's why Orwell-"

"Are you embarrassed by me?"

Elliot stopped short. "What? Where the hell did that come from?"

"Outside of here, you're determined to pretend you don't know me. You never want to talk unless at lunch or on your smoking break,  _away_ from all of your colleagues, so I was beginning to wonder..."

"Whoa, hold your horses!" he held up his hand, "You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?"

 _Only every minute of every day_ , he thought bitterly.

At his silence, Elliot floundered. "Look, I...I  _like_ you, man. I thought you knew that. I thought you were playing along." he rubbed his nose with his finger, "I ain't embarrassed by you. Stop thinking so hard, okay?"

"So it was really just part of the game?"

"Yeah." his eyes flitted over Tyrell's face. "We good?"

Tyrell smiled. "Of course." he lied. They weren't good at all, because Tyrell knew what people looked and sounded like when they were desperate to cover something up. True, Elliot was better at hiding it than most, but he'd learned all the signs by now.

This was no game. Elliot was hiding something from him. 

 

* * *

 

"I see." Joanna said, rocking her son in the crook of her arm. Tyrell hadn't wanted to involve her as much as he had, not wanting to show his weakness, but she had always been better at reading people's behaviour than he, and he patiently waited for her advice. "He certainly seems to be manipulating you. Are you sure you're as close as you want to believe?"

Tyrell was beginning to doubt it. Every moment with Elliot was a contradiction. "He's telling the truth when he says he likes me, I know that."

"Lust doesn't contradict loathing. Does he  _like_ you or does he  _lust_ for you?"

Tyrell frowned. "If it was lust, then why the lunches? Why spend four months in my company? We haven't kissed since he first agreed to date me, and aside from the occasional hand-holding, we haven't touched." Of course Elliot liked him. Tyrell couldn't bare to think otherwise: the man he loved, not liking him, maybe even harbouring a secret contempt for him? It was too painful to think about.

"How childish." She smirked, "No wonder you're so frustrated."

"Joanna..." he warned.

She waved her hand, "Playing, dear. Just playing." She stood and placed the baby in his cot. She came back and crouched in front of Tyrell, combing his hair with her fingernails. "You've really lost your touch, Tyrell. The solution is simple." She cupped his cheek. "Test him at a moment when he least wants you to. See what he truly feels."

So that's what Tyrell decided to do.

 

* * *

 

The next day, he spied Elliot's cubicle as he usually did and waited until Elliot was in a conversation with Angela. He bristled at the attention he gave her - but this was the opportune moment. Tyrell marched up to the cubicle, brushing past Angela to put his hand on Elliot's shoulder. Elliot jumped, but Tyrell didn't slow. In a swift motion, he leaned down and kissed him.

Elliot pulled sharply back. His eyes were big, jaw dropped open. But it wasn't just shock on his face, there was  _horror_.

Tyrell waited for it to fade, to soften into a teasing grin, but it didn't. "I guess that makes things clear." He stood straight, trying to keep his face neutral, and nodded once to a gawping Angela, "Excuse me."

He decided to eat alone in his office, not wanting to see Elliot in case he decided to confront him in the executive lounge. Though, he should have expected by now that if Elliot was going to confront him, he'd do it as loudly as possible.

That didn't stop him from jumping when his office door flew open. Elliot marched in, red-faced, looking furious. "What the actual fuck was  _that?!"_

Tyrell stirred his pasta. "If you would like a meeting, Mr Alderson, please arrange one with my assistant - Elizabeth. She's on the right as you lea-"

Elliot crossed the space between them and snatched Tyrell's pasta pot from his hand. "You must be fucking desperate to avoid me if you're holing up here, eating pasta with a  _plastic spork!"_

Tyrell didn't have the energy to deal with this. He stood, meeting Elliot's glare with his own. "Get the fuck out of my office."

Elliot braced his hands against the desk and leaned forward. "Not until you answer me. What happened to keeping this shit subtle? Now the whole damn office will be chatting about me for years!"

"Like you don't love the attention!"

Elliot leaned back. He looked like he wanted to protest, but settled on a grumbled, "You've got me there." he said, "But that doesn't change the fact you broke a deal. I don't take that shit lightly, Tyrell!"

"You  _pushed_ me to this!" Tyrell clenched his teeth, feeling hurt. But he needed to know the truth. "Do I disgust you so much, that you would toy with me like this for months on end?"

Elliot had the gall to look confused. "What the fuck are you talking about? _"_

_So that's how it's going to be._

Tyrell breathed sharply and tore his eyes from Elliot's face. "I'm done with you. Get out."

"Look you -" he made a frustrated sound, "- you can't just  _do_ that. You scared the absolute shit out of him."

"I'm calling security."

Elliot flapped his hands in exasperation and, with nothing else to take his anger out on, he swiped a cup of pens onto the floor and stormed out.

Exhausted suddenly, Tyrell fell back into his chair and pressed his face into his hands. This wasn't how he wanted this to go, but at least the games were over now. He could move on.

 

* * *

 

He didn't move on. He couldn't even bring himself to sleep around, haplessly devoted to Elliot.

 

* * *

 

On his way to his office from his car one morning, he spotted Elliot and Angela heading towards the elevator. He skirted to avoid them, but couldn't help but notice that they were arguing. He allowed himself a smirk. Had he created tension between the two?

No. He shouldn't thinking about Elliot.

 _Move on. Move_ on!

He wasn't sure how to feel when Angela Moss requested a meeting that same afternoon. She minded him of how he used to be, desperate to rise to the top. He wondered, however, if she was willing to do the things he had, if she had the stomach for them. He doubted it.

She'd been requesting different meetings with different execs on her quest up E-Corp's ladder, so it was reasonable to hope that it was to do with that and not Elliot. But the timing of it - just three weeks after his argument with Elliot... Tyrell didn't believe in coincidences.

So he wasn't surprised when she said, "We need to talk about Elliot."

He gave her a disapproving look. "Miss Moss, what with your excellent performance since you joined us, I expected better from you. It's terribly unprofessional to gossip."

"This isn't gossip." she said, sharply, "You want an explanation for how Elliot has been behaving. It's  _killing_ you, not knowing."

"Perceptive." he droned. "But I refuse to be manipulated by him any further. Now see yourself out."

"Elliot didn't send me. He actually didn't want me to do this. But... I am here on his behalf. This situation is upsetting them a lot, especially  _him,_ which isn't making things any better for Elliot. I want to fix it."

Them? True, he made a scene but Tyrell didn't know why anyone around the office would be upset. Everyone enjoyed office drama. Was someone bullying Elliot? He hadn't seen anything. Whoever it was would soon be fired.

"I'm willing to give you answers," Angela continued, "but I need reassurance that you won't hurt Elliot, which is why I asked  _him_ to give me evidence of everything you've been doing - the keyloggers, the tracking software - all the things you've been using to spy on your colleagues for the last four months. I have it all. Enough evidence to get you locked up. I just need to give it to the right person," she smiled, "and there's a lot of people here who don't like you."

Tyrell was speechless.

" _He_ didn't want to do it, but he realised it was necessary. He asks you not to take it personally, said he hoped you'd understand."

Betrayal. Was this because he went back on the supposed 'deal' he and Elliot had? Tyrell opened his mouth, couldn't speak, and snapped it shut. The urge to tear apart his office in anger was only halted by Angela's presence. Finally, he leaned back in his chair and glared. "Well? Get on with it! What has Elliot got to say for himself?"

She glanced at her lap. "He has a spilt personality."

Tyrell huffed. "I'll say."

He hardly needed reminding of  _that._

Angela kept going, "It's called dissociative identity disorder. It's where a person's identity is fragmented into different pieces called alters. As far as I know, Elliot only has one alter. But I'm not sure. He could have more."

 _What on earth is she..._ "Is this a joke?"

"No."

Tyrell blinked. Suddenly things were sliding into place. The contradictory behaviour wasn't contradictory at all, but rather the actions of two individuals in the same body.

"So when you said  _them -"_

"The two of them."

"And  _him_ is?"

"The alter."

"Meaning Elliot..."

Angela hesitated before answering. "You haven't been spending lunch with Elliot. Elliot and  _him_ have an arrangement, but you'll have to ask them about it." she checks her watch, and stands, "I think that concludes this meeting."

Tyrell didn't say a word, still processing.

On her way out, Angela smiled sweetly. "Just remember: If you use any of this to hurt Elliot, I'll end your career."

 

* * *

 

A week of processing later, Tyrell went to the spot where  _he_ smoked his cigarettes and found him slouched against the wall, head hung, looking miserable. He looked up as Tyrell approached, but he didn't look friendly. He was scowling, arms folded.

Tyrell leaned against the wall opposite.

"Talk to Angela?"  _he_ said.

"Yes. She told me some...illuminating things."

He grunts and takes a sharp drag of smoke.

Tyrell feels his jaw tighten. "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner? I needed to know this!"

"What, so you could cart me off to some loonie bin?"

"I wouldn't have done that."

"Couldn't be sure." He said, matter-of-fact, "Wouldn't have been the first time someone close tried to hurt us."

 _Oh._ He'd done some reading about dissociative identity disorder, about how it occurred, but the implications of it didn't settle until just now. He hadn't wanted to accept that someone would hurt Elliot, the man he cared for so dearly. He wasn't naive. He knew people got hurt all the time, sometimes he was the one doing the hurting, but - not Elliot. Anyone else, just not him.

"I…" he hesitated, "Are you still free for lunch?"

He was mid-drag, and sucked too sharp. He coughed and tried to hide it by clearing his throat. "Uh, not today. Been giving my lunches to Elliot lately, I'm sure you get why. Gotta talk to him before I'm free for anything but cigarettes."

"Does Elliot not smoke?"

"Nah, he does. I just need the air. Hate them stuffy offices, Elliot can have all of that to himself!" he chuckled, finished the cigarette, and threw it onto the ground.

"I need to apologise to Elliot for kissing him." Tyrell blurted, sensing his time was running out, "I hope I didn't frighten him too badly."

"He's a tough kid." He said, "Had one hell of a go at me for not telling him about you."

"Wh...Oh. _Oh!"_

"Exactly."

 

* * *

 

When he passed Elliot's cubicle that afternoon, he stopped, determined to apologise, but Elliot spoke before he had the chance. "I'm free for lunch."

It took a moment for Tyrell to adjust. "Table for three?"

Elliot gave him that soft, fond smile, "Yeah."

 

 

END


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